*
Chapter 1: The Siege of Osgilliath"Here." said Anarion taking a map from the shelf and unrolling it before the table. The herald from Osgilliath, Bowen, looked down at it, it was a map of his city, "Where is the dark lord's minions taking their blows?" He asked him Anarion looked at the messenger. He was young and fair of face, naught but a page.
"There, on the eastern wall." The younger man pointed, "The Steward, Abelard, sent equal fortification on all four sides, my lords, but I fear that the eastern wall shall not stand long."
Isildur paced behind then staring out at the grey morning sky. It seemed as if the sun refused to shine in the days ahead. "Abelard has taken a precautionary tactic." Anarion told his brother, "He did not know where the attacks were going to come from."
"They have Minas Ithil." Isildur said still staring out the window, "I would not doubt that they are using it as a base for planning their attacks." Isildur's grey eyes focused steadily on the young page, "Lad, how many of the enemy's host are at Osgilliath's eastern wall?" Bowen was suddenly uncomfortable under Isildur's gaze.
"When I left Osgilliath, yesterday, the last count was about twelve thousand orcs." Bowen said met by Anarion's grim expression, "We had already heard the message hours before that Minas Ithil had been under siege, so though slim a time it was between the take of Minas Ithil and the attack upon our walls the Steward ordered all the walls fortified and archers ready at each gate."
"They plan to take Osgilliath down." Anarion said grimly, "Twelve thousand orcs." He whispered in thought.
"Aye." agreed Isildur his eyes deep in thought, "It is likely that number has doubled in the last day, the shadow of Mordor has awakened."
"It is evident Sauron had prepared these attacks before hand." Anarion said, "And he probably waited for the opportunity when we were caught unawares."
"He bided his time, Anarion." said Isildur, "He let us soften and feel safety at his border and we have been slack in our vigil." Anarion looked at his brother in grim agreement.
"Then we have to show Sauron that we have not been slack on our strength."
*
Anariel walked through the halls of Minas Ithil quietly letting her thoughts wander to trivial things. She did not want to think of death. She swallowed as she stared out at the faded green fields and the walls and homes below. But everything suddenly seemed to remind her of Riordan. She closed her eyes for a moment remembering. His dark hair and blue eyes, his strong arms and his ready smile for any jest, even when the situation was naught to jest about.
She opened her eyes again and gave a deep sigh. She could not stand here useless. She made that promise to herself. If there was a war to fight then she too would help fight it if need be but she would not remain the sorry widow waiting to die herself as many did.
"My lady," came a gentle voice from behind her, she didn't turn around to know who it was. Anariel frowned. That voice she knew well and she didn't like him at all already she could see his long sandy colored hair and hazel eyes. "I have heard about your loss and I am sorry." He told her.
"Valerian, I do not need your pity." She told him in a soft but cold voice. The man had been an old rival of Riordan and had wanted to marry Anariel but she would not have him.
He came up next to her and Anariel bristled. She didn't like the fact that he was near her at all. He irritated her in every way possible. She felt his eyes bore into her, she did her best to ignore him but found herself fidgeting. She never liked Valerian. He was too ambitious, too cocky.
"I would ask for forgiveness, lady, for the old rivalry I had with Riordan." Valerian told her. Anariel remained silent staring off to the distance. Forgiveness? After all the black eyes and cut lips and…
She sighed. It was not proper to leave a dead man of Gondor without his dues paid. Tradition has it that one's old woes should be buried with the dead. Anariel swallowed almost wincing at her own thoughts; she fought back her tears. No, not now, not in front of Valerian.
"Granted." She murmured still looking out and avoiding his eyes. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence between them.
"Lady, I beg of you not to look away from me." Valerian said quietly, "Although years have passed my love for you has no waned." Anariel turned to him her eyes flashing. How dare he…?!
"Valerian, you have no right to proclaim this in front of me!" She snapped and started to brush past him. Valerian clutched her arm.
"Lady! I beg you! Hear me!"
"I shall not!" Anariel retorted, "Release me!" Suddenly his countenance changed and he only tightened his grip grasping her other arm as well. She felt a surge of terror fill her for the look in his eyes were menacing and she gasped as he shook her for a moment.
"Anariel!" He hissed his eyes glittering with something dark, "Listen to me!"
"Is there a problem here, Lord Valerian!" Boomed an angry voice from behind her. Valerian immediately released her. Anariel stumbled back and Isildur caught her.
If the look in Valerian's eyes earlier were menacing, thought Anariel looking at her elder brother, then if looks could kill Valerian would be a smoldering ruin now. She fought the wry smile that threatened to embellish her lips.
"Nay, my lord." Valerian said nervously under Isildur's gaze.
"Get out of my sight." Isildur said his tone dangerously low. The man was quick to comply, "Are you alright?" He asked her.
"Unscathed." She told him then smiled, "Need you always come to my rescue?"
Isildur grinned, "No matter what, you'll still be the little sister."
Anarion rounded the corner and saw them, "I saw Valerian and he looked none to happy." He said and looked to Anariel, "Did something happen between you?"
"Oh, nothing that couldn't be taken care of." Isildur said looking at her grinning.
"If he approaches you again, Anariel," Anarion said, "Tell us and we shall settle the score with him."
Anariel sighed, "You need not give him a death sentence on my account." She said warily.
"Of course not." Anarion told her catching Isildur's eyes, "Eternity in the dungeon isn't so harsh."
"Or exile to Mordor." Isildur said good naturedly.
"Isildur! Anarion!" Anariel exclaimed.
A rare sound echoed through the stone halls. They laughed together in spite of the storm yet to come.
*
"My lords!" said a page. "The horses are ready!" Anariel tightened her crimson cloak about herself.
"Good," said Anarion, "We must ride fast if we are to make it to Osgilliath."
"Swift." said Bowen the young herald. "My lady, shall you ride well with us?"
"My lad, believe me, she'll ride quite well with us," Isildur said, "It would be more that you worry if we can keep up with her."
"Let's not talk here all day." Anariel said seriously, "We have a city to save."
"Agreed," said Anarion, "We ride!"
*
They rode off in haste from Minas Anor, in the dark of night. Anariel wore her white gown, since it was the lightest of her dresses, grey boots, and her red cloak embellished with the heralds of Minas Anor. Anarion wore a similar cloak but Isildur maintained his blue cloak with the heralds of Minas Ithil holding some hope that he should reclaim it from Sauron's forces. Behind them also came the messenger from Osgilliath, two banner bearers and five guards.
No word was spoken between them but Anariel felt the strong resolve of her two brothers not to let Osgilliath fall. If Osgilliath falls so will Minas Anor… so will Gondor. The thought troubled her. Their horses moved as if carried by the wind, Anariel herself had never rode a horse so swiftly and never before had she really carried a sword but she was forced to at Isildur's bidding.
Already they could see the gleaming white towers of Osgilliath and its white walls. Anariel felt her stomach twist at seeing black smoke rise from within her walls, some of the buildings had been lit aflame. She could hear at least three horns being sounded from afar, and they called for help.
"That is not good!" Isildur called to Anarion as they rode.
"How long will her walls stand!?" asked Anarion as their horses quickened to the fastest pace they could manage.
"They were built to take much, but I do not know what stands at her eastern walls to measure!" Isildur said as he fumbled with his own horn. He let out a loud blow in answer from it as they neared Osgilliath's western gate.
*
"Isildur and Anarion have come!" yelled out a watch man looking off below. "Open the Western Gate! Open the Western Gate!" He called out to the men below. They hastened to comply.
*
They were let in and the gate swiftly closed behind them. Anariel felt the confusion around them. There were people and troops running about and transferring weapons and supplies to the eastern wall. "Where is the steward?! Where is Abelard?!" Isildur demanded from one of the guards. He pointed to the east.
"He is commanding our forces at the Eastern Gate, my lord! A great host of the enemy has gathered there!" The guard clad in blue reported.
"How many?" Anarion demanded.
"I am not sure, lord, I have been ordered to help fortify the Western Gate." He told them, "But I'd say too many to count."
"Then we shall meet with him there." Isildur said and looked to the guard captains that had rode with them. "Broderick! Thorald! Aylwin! Each of you! Pick a gate and help organize the archers there! Fly!" The three quickly talked amongst each other and ran to their orders.
"Come! We must find Abelard!" Isildur said. Anariel simply followed her two brothers, they crossed over a wide stone bridge over the Anduin and she saw the line of people hauling water to the eastern wall. Anariel finally noticed the fires that were spreading over the roof tops. Many of the people looked at them hopefully glad that their lords arrived.
Arrows, lit with fire flew over the walls hitting roof tops and some soldiers. Anariel's steed dodged a falling beam and quickly went around it to the side of Anarion. Smoke and debris covered the streets as well as some fallen soldiers. She swallowed hard. She had never seen such a siege. As they neared the Western wall the arrows increased, some of them stray black points.
As soon as they reached the Eastern Wall the three of them dismounted and Isildur dispersed the rest of his party to duties. "My lords! In here!" called a captain. It seemed they had made a stable into their planning fortress, since its stone walls guarded well from arrows. They threw back their hoods and Anariel did her best not to shudder at the screams she heard outside. Some were orders being yelled, others were of pain and death. It seemed as if Osgilliath was swept up in confusion.
"How many do we have against us, Master Archer?" Isildur asked him looking down at the spread out parchment of the city map he had spread out on the table.
"At least twenty thousand. Orcs mainly, and wargs, being led by nine shadow riders."
"Wraiths." Isildur cursed under his breath remembering the creatures that had over taken him in Minas Ithil.
"And most likely the Witch King among them." added Anarion grimly.
"We are in an uproar." came a sad voice from behind them. Anariel looked at the Steward, his beard long and grey and his head bruised, "This is Gildor of Imladris, my lords." He added gesturing to the elf with golden hair and silver eyes who stood behind the steward respectfully.
"Well met, when did you arrive here?" Isildur asked.
"I have been here since the siege began." Gildor said his voice soft and light though there was tension in it, "You're walls will not hold out much longer."
Anarion studied the map they had looking at the dispersal of their forces. It seemed that Abelard had spread them out evenly between the gates, it was not a bad tactic but Anarion knew that with twenty thousand at the Eastern Gate things would be grim indeed.
"The Western Wall," he said looking up, "It does not need all that fortification, it is yet the safest of all the gates."
"Agreed." Isildur said, "You should transfer them to the Eastern Gate where they are most needed."
"Done, my lords." Abelard said looking at one of the soldier's nearby who rushed upon a horse to send the orders.
"How fare your healing houses?" asked Anariel. Abelard looked at her grimly.
"They have been burned to useless rubble, my lady, we have moved many of our wounded into larger stables near the Anduin. Our dead are yet uncounted but there are yet many wounded to move." She looked to her brothers.
"I will go help aid the wounded." she told them.
"I shall go with her," said Gildor, "I have helped enough at the battle, now that the two of you have arrived perhaps you shall be able to keep things more organized," He looked at Anariel, "My gifts will be needed elsewhere."
Isildur nodded, "Go then, and go swiftly, and be careful of the arrows!"
"One more thing, my lords." Gildor said, "Even if you do fortify the Eastern Gate with the other men it might hold out longer, but not as long as you may hope. You may have to leave Osgilliath before it falls and seek aid from Lindon."
"You're advise is heard, Gildor, and kept." Anarion told the elf then looked at Isildur grimly, "But we shall have to hold out as long as we can here for now."
Gildor nodded and looked at Anariel. "Then we shall go help the wounded."
*
"You are the sister of Anarion and Isildur?" asked Gildor as they ran past the arrows toward the center of the city where they had moved the wounded.
"Yes, forgive my lack of manners earlier, I am Anariel." She told him. There was more burning debris coming from buildings. More people were shouting orders.
"More water!" called a local man. Pails were rushing up in a line and they were working restlessly to put out the flames.
"Well met, my lady!" Gildor told her over the racket, "You are brave to come here! I take it your brothers put up an argument!" How insightful elves are, thought Anariel.
"Yes, indeed they did!" She replied.
"Here! In there!" said Gildor pointing to the stables. They walked in. Anariel looked over the wounded with eyes wide. There were over a hundred and only a handful healers nearby.
"Where do we start?" She said in a whisper. Gildor rolled up his sleeves.
"Wherever we can." Gildor said with a frown, "For only half of these men will live at best."
*
Three dark days had passed and it was night once more. Anariel sighed deeply and sadly closing the eyes of a young soldier who had just died before her. She could still hear the screams outside the stables and the voices of dark things from outside being carried by the eastern wind.
She felt a soft hand touch her shoulder. "Gildor tells me you have not eaten nor slept in these three days." said Isildur. She looked at him feeling a heaviness in her heart. So many had died. So many had left wives lonely somewhere. She looked about her and realized she was not the only one that grieved, there were wives and mothers here besides the healers by the sides of their sons and husbands, of their brothers.
"There has not been a moment to rest or eat." She told him. She dared not think of food for two great was the butchery about her. Bloodies faces, pierced chests and arms from arrows, poisoned victims with bloodshot eyes and violet-colored wounds, burns and bruises, fevers from infections. Isildur put her cloak around her.
"You and I are going to Lindon to seek aid from father and Gil-galad of the Noldor." Isildur told her she looked up at him, "The enemy is now distracted with Anarion's forces at the Easter Wall, Gildor is equipping a small corsair at the Southern Gate and we are going down the Anduin and sail up toward Lindon."
"But what of Anarion?" She asked standing up worry creasing her brow.
"Anarion will have to defend Osgilliath until help arrives." He told her. "But we have not time. We must go tonight." She looked around her.
"But there are so many to care for, Isildur! And so little healers!" She cried out, "Would it not be better if I were to remain here?" She asked.
"Nay!" He snapped rather protectively. He shook his head, "I mean… No, Anariel. Father has not seen you in three years, let us go to Lindon, you are clever and perhaps you can help us yet." She looked into her brother's grey eyes darkly.
"And what if help comes too late to Osgilliath?" She asked him gravely.
"I will not ponder on that." Isildur told her, "Come."
*
Author's Note: Alas… the sky looks dark for the three of them! Hmm… Lindon… Please do me a favor… REVIEW! Heh… or no next chapter.